Instead, I take them off long enough to peel down the sweat-soaked socks and shake out small piles of sand. I debate with myself whether I want to put the socks back on, but decide to keep them. There’s no point in damaging my feet by having them rub against sand and leather.
I’m hauling myself back upright when I see it ...
A glint on the horizon.
I freeze. My pulse falters. For a moment, I think it’s a mirage—light bouncing off heat and emptiness. But it doesn’t disappear.
Whatever it is, it’s tall. Needle-straight, rising from the desert.
I squint, and raise a hand against the glare. The structure gleams, metal or glass reflecting the light.
I don’t remember seeing it when I reached the top of the dune, and yet it’s there. A tower, standing in the middle of an empty desert. My heart jumps into my throat.
“Please. Be real.”
I move in shuffling steps at first, then running, sliding down the slope faster and faster, until I lose my balance. I slam into the ground, tumble down the dune, bouncing and rolling, sand scraping every exposed inch of skin. When I finally stop, I lie there, panting.
Then I get up, and keep stumbling forward, until I’m close enough to see the shimmer of light resolve into a smooth, round shape.
The tower is huge, far taller than I thought from a distance. Its surface gleams with a brushed silver sheen, but there are no seams, or joints. I can’t see any windows or doors. It doesn’t look old or weather-worn. Or new. It just …is.
Alien.
Perfect.
A chill crawls down my spine, even with the sun’s blistering heat overhead. Nothing should look like this.
So perfect. So strange. Sowrong.
And yet, it’s the only thing around me that offers even thepossibilityof shelter, if I can get inside.
The last of my strength burns out before I reach the base of the tower. I drop to my hands and knees, and drag myself the final stretch, crawling myself forward on shaking limbs. The tower's shadow cuts across the ground, and I collapse into it.
I don’t know if I’ve stopped moving because I’ve found shelter, or because I’ve given up. And, at this point, I don’t care. I reach out with one hand. If it’s a mirage, my fingers will pass through. My heart is hammering against my ribs, waiting for the disappointment.
My palm touches the tower, and it doesn’t disappear.
It’s cold to the touch.Reallycold, like something that’s just been taken out of a freezer. The difference in temperature hits my overheated skin with a jolt that makes me gasp.
I lean into it, pressing my cheek to the surface, and let it soothe the sting of sunburn. A chill spreads down my face, my neck, over my shoulders, and down my arms. It’s a shock of relief after the relentless heat.
It’s real.
When I sit back, my reflection wavers on the surface, distorted and grimy. My eyes are too wide.Myhair clings to my scalp, matted with sweat and sand.
You’re not okay.
The thought is loud in my head, but I can’t afford to fall apart. Not yet.
I’m shaking. Exhausted. Thirsty.Scared. And the only thing thatmight protect me from the sun is sealed shut. But I need to get inside somehow. I need shade. Water. I need help.
Therehasto be a way in. There must be people in there. Why else would there be a tower in the middle of a desert, if not for people to escape from the heat?
A dry sob catches in my throat. I’m going to die here—whereverhereis—alone in this impossible place if I can’t find the door.
I force myself upright again, muscles trembling. The tower’s shadow won’t save me for long. The sun will move. The heat will keep building. And even if I survive that, night is coming. I’ve heard what deserts are like after dark. The cold can kill just as easily as the sun.
If there’s any chance of survival at all, it’s going to be in there.